Sometimes Kiru wished he could be anywhere but where he was.
And then he remembered that no matter where, he'd still be who he was, and held his peace, but came out of his morning prayers in sour temper nonetheless. The practice yards were full today. Sword drill. Kiru paced the line of young pupils, whom he'd grouped in pairs to spar. The air hung heavy with rain today, and his bad leg wanted to buckle with every step. The scar on his face had drawn itself tight. He ignored them both and walked a little faster, shifting his grip on his sword-hilt. That was the way of it--move faster and pain wouldn't catch you.
The trainees hadn't gotten that yet. Specially the girls, they thought the point to it all was stand right and look right and then you'd be a bloody lady soldier. All just a bit of posing and primping and fancy twirling with a blade. Like a polite little dance, waiting for your partner's by-your-leave and then--ragh.
He spent the hour whacking arms and legs into place and filling trainee ears with curses and trainee bellies with fear. When they were done he started off the yards to get his lunch, and that one boy who always begged talk from him after lessons tagged along.
"You make a bad whore, Cantrei," Kiru said sourly, speeding his pace. "I can feel the suck from here and I don't like it."
"Sergeant. I just wanted to ask your--"
"And you fight worse'n a whore, boy, you leave more openings than a man can buy." He rubbed two fingers together, and kept walking.
The boy, a bright-faced, brown-haired creature about fourteen years old, bounced after him undeterred. He was that kind. He thought someone's favor meant anything. An easily embarrassed kid, though. He was turning red already, but pressed on. "I just thought you might let me try a block I learned."
"Oh for--" Kiru's sword was out before he'd even finished rolling his eyes, and he drove straight at the boy. Blocks! Their hilts jammed and Kiru reeled back and punched the kid, though he held back most of his force. He wrenched his sword up and Cantrei's went flying. Kiru shoved him over with one hand. The boy landed flat on his back. Kiru looked calmly down at him.
"There's your block, lad, and well done. And you're after wantin' a grand lesson so here it is." He leaned to give him a hand up; the kid wasn't hurt, just shaken. "Any block you make's a blow as hasn't hit the man you're fightin', boy." Once Cantrei was up, Kiru turned away and kept walking, while the boy followed. "Hey, I love comin' up against one who wants to fight my sword. Like with women." He reached the edge of the field and stopped, turning back to his trainee. "You make 'em think it's their idea. So you wave y'blade 'round 'til they get wet and go for it, but you gotta keep your mind on the thrust, eh? And then you make 'em wetter." He slid his sword into its sheath, viciously quick. "You don't want to be the girl, I hope." Kiru spat sideways. "Now g'wan. On your way." He tried to shoo Cantrei off.
"But--sir--my father said--"
"Bugger your father!" Kiru roared, and stalked off, leaving the trainee open-mouthed in his wake.
Sometimes he got a little out of temper when he was hungry. Kiru hated being hungry. If he hadn't hated being aimless more he might've given up the sword and turned to the fork instead. But he had decided a long time ago that he couldn't serve himself, and so he served Adela. And right now Adela was serving him lunch. It smelled like chicken pot pie.
Kiru ducked under the first few drops of rain and into the mess hall, brushing beaded water off the curly tangle of his hair. Outside, thunder rolled, but here it was warm. He grabbed a pie and went to sit at a bench not teeming with trainees. He'd already settled himself when he looked up to see that monstrous tall Dragon-man. Kiru nodded a curt greeting, no more. He'd fight alongside him once he was trained up real. He'd even appreciate the power a Dragon could bring.
Didn't mean he liked it. But then, Kiru was used to living with things he didn't like.
